Joe Budden - Dumb Out текст песни

Текст песни Dumb Out - Joe Budden



God knows the fuck this is
This the woman on me
The criminals of y'all
This feel like sit on my throne music
The fuck is up with sumn'
It's that
It's that
It's that all the time, music
Biddy we up
Black boat
Just one at a time, y'all
Run through base niggas, goin' down
Run check my checks (goin' down)
It's stuck between platinum and flop, underground and mainstream
Conscious, backpack, scratch that, same thing
I'm somewhere between the real and the fakeness
The red pill, blue pill, real and the Matrix
And I can't take this
If the game needs a new look, I'm between a tummy tuck and a face lift
And everything I say in these pages
Is straight from the heart, nah magazines, y'all can't rate this
'Cause I'll be debatin' it, it's a bit outragous
Like it's an air virus, and this shit's contagious
I'm downloadin' like, niggas actually play this
Maybe I'm buggin' out, maybe I'm on a spaceship
See I was on my stay out chill shit, the way Mouse kills shit
I'm here just to lay out real shit
Besides, other dudes styles remind me of spinnin' rims
That shit got played out real quick
See some wrote him off, some said he was done
Made a joke of, hope he enjoyed the run
I don't enjoy bein' shunned, so I'm back as Neo
Fans enjoyed The One, annoint me as begun
I had the whole hood thinkin' he would never eat
Rappers tried to diss, thinkin' we would never meet
I heard it if you said it
You wrote it online then I read it, now I match it nigga, bet it
'Cause I remember clearly
Once "Pump It Up" stop soarin'
There's a few motherfuckers stopped callin'
See I remember shit spread like cancer
I would call folks said, folk ain't answer
A few chicks runnin' started pullin' they pants up
A few stopped actin' like my private dancer
But a lightbulb hit once they started to neglect me
See there I was, thinkin' I was all that sexy, but I
Now fuck that, 'cause I'm still sexy, young, and fine
I'm in here, look here
Can't be finished (nah), what nigga I beg ya pard'
I just let niggas get a head start
I walk to the finish, y'all spread out chase
Nah, spead out pace, and I'll still win the race, yuh
See I'm joggin', other niggas legs starts wobblin'
When opportunity start knockin'
You got the crown, pass off like Stockton
It's time to work, I'm officially clocked in
He is a problem, weavin' and bobbin'
Through the speculation that his label tried to drop him
I can't leave, even though it's big options
Kev only signed me, to keep this shit rockin'
Don't ask me how I'm doin', I been better
Stuck in cold Feburary, with a thin sweater
I'm far from a "yes man", I'm a trendsetter
It's no games, just a Def Jam Vendetta
Don't put niggas in the same sink as me
I mean metaphors, storylines, deep shit, club shit, girl shit, world shit
They don't use the ink like me, niggas don't even think like me
Who sees what I'm watchin', he ain't poppin'
Don't deserve to drink water from the tub that I washed in
Wait, start again, it's a privilege to breathe the same air that I farted in
They want no parts with him (nah)
I dare niggas categorize me
If my names on a mixtape, then capitalize me
I been stopped goin' to Mixtape Awards
Don't need them to tell me, the mixtapes is yours (no)
I had other ideas, while hittin' loot
I'm thinkin' red carpet, I went and copped a suit
See I'm thinkin' Grammy's
Sunglasses on, with my On Top family and a bad bitch handy
Each day there's a "W", and it felt like heaven
I'm at an actress's house, that felt like neckin'
R&B on, looked and felt like Meagon
Gave me headache too, I felt like an Excedrin
Talk very fly
Least until I bought every pie, me bein' war ready's in my eyes
And these dudes might as well be Jamie Foxx
Trying to sound like somebody that already died
The kid keep a snub wit 'em, good pair of gloves wit 'em
Your first week ain't right, they can't fuck wit 'em
Now if you don't sell five mill', they had enough of 'em
Let me find out if Hip Hop's turnin' Republican
I'll sum it up to what he is about
Still new to both, they still feelin' him out
Things was type blam, Joey seasoned him out
I'm the nicest dude out since "Reasonable Doubt"
Say it ain't so
Rest In Peace Luther, there's some other niggas gay on the low, oh
So live, who can see 'em, no guy
I'm the Mets, was supposed to be ill in '05
As ill as the flow gets, need a pillar, don't snitch
So if you can't tell, I'm prepared for '06
About to OD, anybody that know me
Can tell you I'm 'bout to make shit feel like it's '03
More like '99
No names should be mentioned but mine
Unless you talkin' Big Pun in his prime
Maybe '96 Jay, before Dame was throwin' money around
Or 2Pac without Humpty around
Or 50 before Em, Nas talkin' like a gun in his song
Cam'ron during "Children Of The Corn"
Beans before the cops came through and try to grill 'em
I'm talkin' '95, Big L before they killed 'em
Em before 8 Mile, Shyne before the deal shit
Canibus, no album out before the L shit
Talkin' bout Kiss, DMX when he was fuckin' wit coke
Or Cuban Linx, with Raekwon and Ghost
I do it all, who blendin' so well in the game
Talkin' Fab, back when he was still spellin' his name
Man, on my Diddy shit, Memphis, Grizzlie shit
Like back in the day when Clue swiped all of Biggie's shit
Rappers don't need trouble with I
Unless it's Rass Kass before the D.W.I
Or Talib with Mos, Common before "Be"
If they any less common, don't put 'em before me
See, I'm not a rapper, I'm a prophet
Tell Joe stop it, skill will speak for you, don't pop shit
Fuck jail, I'm on my payroll cop shit
I call that bootleg cable, it's no box shit
All black, lookin' grimey in the crowd
Heat on him, no shirt, don't try me when I'm out
I toast somethin' tiny that'll blauh
Ain't gotta see Paul Wall, if you want somethin' shiney in your mouth
I probably fool cats, 'cause I don't ride out in some big car
In the streets, like I ain't some big star
And these young motherfuckers, is about to fuck up
Like leavin' they whole career in some bitch car
No name, but it's no sublime
Nigga, you know who you are, I'll end it before it goes too far
Your buzz still fucked, you a liar, money
Joe's still spendin' "Pump It Up", "Fire" money
Glock for hire money, don't try to mug me
Call ass cap, hey he be at mine for money
Please, what's wrong wit' 'em, somethin' ain't the norm' wit' 'em
Ain't too many dudes out there, outperforming 'em
Some require these skills, I was born wit' 'em
Street's askin' what's takin' so long wit' 'em?
Jump Off, I'm the best to happen
He's the answer, the who's got next in rappin'
I suggest you ask 'em
If Hip Hop is all smoke and mirrors, then I'm the Windex and a napkin
New dudes is whack, some vet's is has-been's
Some were Top 20, 'til I crept right past 'em
It's a wrap, Joey sealin' it, nigga
Cold out, Long Johns still dealin' it, nigga
Still peelin' it, nigga
And if I only get 'em two times, just know it was the Dilinger, nigga
It's that jax music, don't-know-how-to-act music
Gettin' my Kanye on, puttin' out "Crack Music"
Car jack music, got-what-they-lack music
Send my little man, get-rid-of-the-pack music
That I'm back music, that click-clack music
That A-Team, Muggs, that Fab and Stack music
Now who said they fuckin' with me
They just said they're fuckin' with me, they didn't mean it, nah
You got soul, got soul nigga
Small thing to a chime
Y'all wake up yet?
I've got more circles, way down the dope
All in the cracks, all in the cracks
I wake niggas up, get 'em up, fuck, fuck
What I gotta do?
Niggas step on it
I think the dreads is long overdue
New faces here, new faces here
A new day in Empire, uh, uh
Show it, show it
Dead on, tag it on
Sing, sing
Aight, give me one more track after, after...



Авторы: Architechs


Joe Budden - Mood Muzik, Vol. 2: Can It Get Any Worse?
Альбом Mood Muzik, Vol. 2: Can It Get Any Worse?
дата релиза
26-12-2005




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